


Show Me Yours (I'll Show You Mine)

by mickeym



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Docking, Episode Tag, Foreskin Play, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-17
Updated: 2009-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Your body is different, now. Since you came back.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me Yours (I'll Show You Mine)

**Author's Note:**

> So, Dean made a joke in Monster Movie, about being 'rehymenated', and went on to mention the lack of scars, etc. Which intrigued me. A lot. :) Enough that my brain has been mulling this over for a while. I owe lots of thanks to rivers_bend and cormallen for their speedy betas and encouragement. River said we need video footage to go along with the story, but acknowledged sadly that we have no control over the lack of that. Anyway, thank you, ladies, and I hope the rest of you enjoy this :)

Your body is different, now. Since you came back.

_You_ are different.

You saw it, looking into a mirror in a deserted gas station, grave dirt still clinging under your fingernails.

You see it in his eyes when he looks at you.

He's different, too. Bigger, broader, darker. Secrets and shadows that go deeper than you can see, eyes only skimming the surface. 

He still feels the same when you hug him. When you cling to him. He's strong and warm, that strength and that warmth enveloping you as he holds on, squeezing. But there are too many eyes in the room waiting, watching, seeing things they shouldn't, so you make yourself let go. Step back. Watch him watch you, eyes drinking you in.

It's later, so much later, before you get to hold him the way you want. Before you can lose yourself in his arms, in his touch, in his kisses.

"Everything's gone," he whispers, words traced over your skin, fingers following his lips. "All your scars—"

You want to make a joke about being returned to factory specs, but you can't joke about it. Not yet. Everything feels too new, too different.

"Tat's still there," you say instead, shivering when he licks it, scrapes his teeth over it.

"Mmm." He licks down your body, pausing to suck at your nipples, teasing them up into tight points that ache and throb with your heartbeat. 

"Sam. Sammy. God, _please_ \--" He's so good at this. Good at making you come undone with just his lips, his tongue, warm breath sliding over your body and raising goosebumps. 

He's pulling your jeans and underwear off before you can say anything, do anything, and then Sam stops and stares down at you. "Wow. New all over."

There's that chance to make a joke again, but you can't. Not with his hot eyes burning into you, want and need rising in waves from the both of you.

"Does it—" Sam breaks off, reaching for you, fingers pushing gently, easing the foreskin back. "How's it feel?"

"Intense," you manage, because now he's stroking, one fingertip moving gently over the head of your dick, spreading the moisture beginning to bead up. He moves your legs apart, sliding in and under, until you're half in his lap, dicks brushing against each other. 

"This is wild." He breathes the words as he strokes you, jacks you slowly, pulling and pushing on your foreskin, drawing it up over the head of your dick, then back down again. Each brush of his fingers against you feels a hundred times stronger than it ever did before, fire streaking through you bright-hot and sizzling.

"Just a fore—" You freeze in place because Sam's rubbing at the tip of your dick now, thumb smoothing and smearing, dipping into the tiny slit. "Jesus, oh Jesus, Sam—" 

"Wanna try something." He scoots closer, shifting, hand never leaving you, not once, until he's wiggled into whatever position it is he thinks he should be in. "Read about it, never thought we'd get to try it—"

The first brush of his dick against yours is electric; you've always loved rubbing off against him, thick shaft and heavy balls, but that's not what he's doing. Instead, he's moving, pressing the tip of his dick to yours, a soft, wet kiss you feel tickle all through you. Tip-to-tip, your slick smearing with his, and then he takes his huge, hot hand and draws your foreskin downward, pulling it over you and then over himself, wrapping the two of you up together.

"Oh, Jesus." You choke the words out even as he's shuddering, murmuring, "Christ, it's _good_ , Dean," and it is. It really, really is.

His eyes are all pupil when you look up, arousal simmering there in the depths. You lean forward and brush your mouth over his, licking at his lips, at his tongue, teasing and promising while he strokes the two of you, foreskin gliding with slippery friction back and forth.

It's a loop, you into him and him into you, joined together. Like fucking and being fucked at the same time, and you're dizzy from how good it feels, pleasure zig-zagging through you as Sam moves his hand faster, faster, tugging harder, grasping tighter. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, hanging on as everything coils tighter inside you, his pleasure bleeding into you and yours into him, swallowed down with panted breath and quiet moans.

You're so close to the edge, drowning in sensation, and then Sam jerks and tightens his fist, and you _feel_ it, feel him coming in a way you've never felt before. Thick heat floods where you're joined, so much of it it's spilling out, over your dick and Sam's dick, over his fingers. Your pulse is pounding, throbbing, all you feel and hear is the roar of it echoing in your head and then you're coming too, spunk mixing with Sam's, messy, wet glide where he's still stroking the two of you together.

You haven't even caught your breath yet, still ragged and fast and uneven, when he pushes you back on the bed and leans down. His fingers are gentle when he draws your foreskin back, and then he's licking you, feather-soft touches of his tongue, light suction, cleaning you up. You shiver all over when his tongue darts beneath the foreskin, the thin skin of your dick ultra-sensitive, now.

Your whole body is buzzing by the time Sam's done cleaning you, and you think you're never going to calm down, never going to get to rest. Sam kisses you and tastes like you and him, like you're one and the same and maybe you are. You're different, now, and so is he, but maybe it's the same different.

The buzzing calms when he curls up against you, long fingers trailing over your chest, your belly, stroking lightly where there should be masses of scars. Where there's nothing but warm, whole skin.

Maybe it doesn't matter if you're different, because this? This is the same.

~fin~


End file.
